What You Have Wanted
by refreshingbeverage
Summary: Mac vacations to Miami, his intentions clear in his mind. Horatio finally understands what he has been wanting for so long. Rated M for language, mention of past abuse, and sexual themes.
1. No Vacancy

**What You Have Wanted**

**Note:** Remember that contest I held a while back in the first "Some With Arrows, Some With Traps"? Well, I finally finished it. And here it is

**Chapter One: No Vacancy**

"What do you mean you're full?!" Mac Taylor snapped at the desk clerk, "You're the fifth hotel I've tried today!"

"I'm sorry sir," the woman behind the desk whimpered, "but three of Miami's largest hotels are under renovations. The rest of us are fully booked if not overbooked".

Mac glared at her as he tried to think. All he wanted was a vacation away from New York and work, was that too much to ask? He wanted some sun and a change of scene, but more importantly, he wanted to see Horatio Caine. It always feels too long between visits, it would be nice to really talk to him without having to think about a case.

"Fine," Mac sighed, drumming his fingers on the desk, "thanks for your time".

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized again, "I hope you find someplace soon".

The detective nodded as he turned and went back to the car he rented. He pulled out of the parking lot and got back on the highway. The hotel situation was absolutely ridiculous. He decided to put his search for lodging on hold until he was able to calm down, afraid that he would break the next receptionist's jaw.

Irritated, overheated, and hungry, he decided to do what he really came to Miami for: to pay Horatio a visit.

Mac and Horatio had met a few years ago when a hit man was sent from New York to Miami. The New York detective admired how protective and driven Horatio was during the case, wanting only what was best for the girl who was made an orphan. But what Mac really found interesting was his physical attraction towards the lieutenant.

He would never forget the moment he first saw Horatio. He had slipped into the crime scene so quietly; Mac just turned around and saw him there. Horatio's expression was firm, in a sort of silent order to let him on the case. Mac could almost see the stranger's eyes flashing behind his sunglasses. His red hair was illuminated in the sunlight; it almost looked as if he brought a piece of Miami with him. The top button of his white shirt was undone, letting Mac see clearly where his neck ended and chest began. Horatio pushed his overcoat aside and flashed his badge, popping his hip slightly.

When Mac saw him, his breath caught; he had never seen anyone look so strong, protective, commanding, and sexy all at the same time. Then, finally, he spoke. His low whisper of a voice was a breath that filled Mac's mind with beautiful fantasies. He also remembered the overpowering desire to wrestle that man down onto a bed. It had been years since he was in a relationship with a man, he wouldn't mind starting up again with someone like Horatio.

Mac shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wiping the sweat from his palms on the steering wheel. Just thinking about Horatio had spurred on incredibly erotic images to flash through his mind. He turned up the radio and tried not to think too much on what was happening in his pants. After all, he wanted to be presentable when he finally drops in on the redhead.

***

"Hey, H," Ryan called, sticking his head in the trace lab, "you have a visitor".

"'Visitor'?" Horatio repeated, he and Eric looking up from the evidence that littered the examination table.

"Yeah, he's waiting downstairs".

"Thank you, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio nodded, pulling off his lab coat, "Would you mind processing this evidence?"

"Not at all," he grinned as Eric smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks".

Horatio took the stairs down to the first floor, having no idea who Ryan might be talking about. He couldn't think of anyone who would want to drop in on him. When he finally reached the ground floor and saw just who was standing in the middle of the lobby, he pulled himself back into the stairwell.

After he was pretty sure that he had fully recovered from his heart skipping a beat, he looked again. His breath caught when he saw Mac standing there, just waiting for him. His militaristic form and dark clothes separated him from the Miami detectives.

Horatio smirked as he remembered the day they first met in New York. The thoughts Horatio had when he met Mac for the first time caught him by surprise. He remembers looking over the detective's strong features and piercing eyes. Horatio clearly remembers blushing before he could form a coherent sentence; he had never felt so attracted to a man before.

Horatio quickly adjusted his clothes and pulled himself together before he stepped into the lobby.

"Look who's here," Horatio smiled, approaching Detective Taylor.

"Hi Horatio," Mac said warmly, "I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

"Not at all," the redheaded lieutenant chuckled, "My shift's almost over, anyways".

The two of them stood in an awkward silence for a while, taking in each other's presence.

"What… what brings you to Miami?" Horatio finally stuttered.

"Vacation," Mac grinned, "but I'm afraid that I'll have to cut it short. All the hotels are full".

"What? You poor thing, that shouldn't be".

"Yeah, well that's the last time I try getting a room in your city last minute".

"I'm sorry," Horatio blushed.

The two of them stood in silence again, neither sure of what to say but not wanting to leave the other's side.

"You can stay at my place for the night... or however long you need," Horatio timidly suggested.

"Really?" Mac piped up, his heart skipping a beat, "I mean... I don't want to impose..."

"Don't worry," the lieutenant smiled gently, "You're not".

***

Horatio's home was pretty nice, a good two stories with a balcony and a bit of beach. Everything in it was white, and in the late afternoon glow the house was bathed in gold. Horatio stood at the large bay window looking out onto the Atlantic. He was barefoot, but remained in his black suit and white shirt. He rocked his heals back into the snowy white carpet as he sipped at his whisky.

Mac leaned against the well-stocked bar, downing his second vodka as he looked over Horatio. He desperately wanted to press his lips against the other man's, the desire becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. But what was making him bolder, time or drink, Mac was still unsure of.

"Have you been to Miami before?" Horatio asked, breaking the silence, "I mean… for holiday?"

"No," Mac shook his head, trying to focus on conversation instead of Horatio's beautifully inviting eyes and radiant hair.

"I thought so," he smiled sweetly, "That's why I'm taking tomorrow off. There are so many things I want to show you here. Given, it can't hold a candle to New York, (few places can), but it's my home now, and I want to show you around".

Mac couldn't help but to grin and chuckle lightly at Horatio's hospitality and enthusiasm.

"I'll drive you around downtown tomorrow," he went on as he approached the bar and set his empty glass down on the counter, "I'll show you around and take you to the art museum. They have some Chuck Close paintings there, you'd like those".

The two men stood there smiling at each other, Horatio with excitement and Mac with desire. Without warning, Mac leaned in and brushed his lips over those of the Miami lieutenant. Horatio's bright eyes widened, not quite sure of what exactly was happening.

A hand slipped around Horatio's waist, pulling him close. The redhead's eyes drifted shut as he felt Mac's wanting lips close around his and suck gently. Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around Mac and pressed himself up against the other man, needing more contact. They lingered there for a long and heated moment, stealing each other's breath.

Just as slowly, Mac pulled away, his grey eyes opening and looking down onto Horatio's serene face. The redhead's baby blues lifted, not sure what to think.

"Mac," he whispered, completely breathless.

"I... I may be a little drunk right now, but... Horatio... I've been wanting to do that to you ever since we first..." Mac trailed off and turned his face away, suddenly not as bold as he felt a moment ago, "If you would rather me find someplace else to stay tonight, I'll understand".

"No!" Horatio gasped, a little louder than he expected himself to be, "I mean… I'm fine with you staying the night".

"You're sure you don't mind?"

Horatio nodded, stepping in towards Mac again. He looked over the angled features of Mac's face, softened with uncertainty. He let Mac's militaristic figure tower over his pale and lean body, suddenly feeling very safe and desired.

Gently coaxing on Horatio's jaw with his fingertips, Mac raised the lieutenant's head and looked deep into his beautiful azure eyes. Their lips met once again, this time Horatio's parted. Mac blushed furiously as he realized what Horatio was going to let him do. They moaned softly as their tongues tangled, giving them chills that rolled down their arms and backs. Horatio trembled and blushed, not sure of how to react.

Mac slipped his tongue out of Horatio's mouth, the redhead's taste lingering in his own. He cupped the lieutenant's face in his hand, feeling long, pale fingers rest on his hips.

"From past experience," Mac whispered into Horatio's hair, "long distance relationships rarely work".

Horatio nodded.

"But... in all honesty," Mac continued, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship".

"Neither am I," Horatio purred, slowly stroking Mac's sides.

Horatio nearly swallowed his own tongue after he said that. What was he thinking? Given, every now and again he would think of what it would be like to go to bed with another man. But he knew how much sex could ruin a good friendship; which gave him pause and made him quickly take a small step back.

Mac turned away, not sure of what to think of himself. He felt like they had the potential of moving far too fast. In the back of his mind Mac was afraid that he was coming off as a slut. But the rest of him really wanted to get in bed with Horatio. And on top of everything, he knew that he was wanted in return.

"Horatio," Mac whispered, "I know I'm coming on awfully fast, but... I just feel that you and I could… I think we… Oh God, I don't even know what I'm trying to say anymore".

"No. Mac, I… I want to…" Horatio gasped, suddenly a little short of breath, "but I've never... with a man before".

"Don't worry about that H," the detective cooed, "You just relax and I'll take care of everything. Or better yet, we'll just do what you want to do. Just tell me what you need".

Horatio's mind and heart were racing as he tried to find words. What did this mean? How long has he been gay? If he was, then what did he feel for Marisol if not love? Would he regret it? Was he stalling because he was unsure or was he stalling because he had never wanted anyone so badly? As much as Horatio demanded his brain to answer these questions, he could think of no solutions.

"Although I've never been with a man before, I know I want to spend tonight with you," Horatio whispered.

Mac looked Horatio over, seeing how much he was trembling. He gently took the smaller man into his arms and kissed his hair.

"Hey," he said gently, "if you feel uncomfortable, just say so. We don't have to move so quickly. I can take as long as you need me to. If you want to hang around, watch a movie, and have us _just_ sleep in the same bed tonight, I'm fine with that".

"I would rather us do more," Horatio said timidly, "If… if you don't mind".

Mac pulled away from Horatio so he could look into his eyes before he brought their lips together. His hands were on either side of the lieutenant's face, holding him gently. Horatio let his hands rest on Mac's hips, bringing their bodies close together.

After a slow and sweet moment, Horatio pulled away. He was short of breath and slightly flushed, he turned his gaze from Mac as he imagined what it would be like to be lain out on a bed for this man. Flashing the detective a soft smile, Horatio walked over to the large bay window and drew the curtains.

"Upstairs. Bring your bags".

Mac raised his eyebrow at this. Horatio suddenly seemed very certain of himself. Perhaps it was a false front he was putting on. Or maybe he really was more prepared than he was letting on. He couldn't be sure. The side of Horatio the public saw and the side he was seeing appeared to be complete opposites. Whatever the case, Mac picked up his suitcases and let the redhead lead him up a flight of stairs and into the master bedroom.


	2. Tangled Blankets

**Chapter Two: Tangled Blankets**

Horatio's bedroom kept the same white motif as the rest of the house. There was a king sized bed up against the wall with two nightstands on either side. The bed was unmade, the blankets twisted and pulled. Mac could almost see what position Horatio sleeps in and how he gets out of bed each morning.

"I'm sorry the place is such a mess," Horatio murmured, a little embarrassed as he picked up a discarded shirt and threw it into the hamper that stood next to the door of the master bath.

"I like it," Mac smiled, "It looks lived in".

Mac continued to scan over the room. Above the bed was a long painting of the New York skyline, its dark colors a contrast to the rest of the house. The bedroom led out onto a balcony overlooking the beach. There was a palm tree outside that brushed against the balcony's railing with its fronds. Horatio drew the curtains to the French doors after turning a picture standing on the dresser face down.

"What did you…" Mac began to ask, drifting off after deciding that it wasn't any of his business.

"My and my late wife's wedding picture," Horatio answered softly, not caring if Mac knew or not.

"I'm sorry".

"It's alright".

"You'd just tell me to stop if you start getting at all uncomfortable, right?"

"Don't worry about me," Horatio sighed, walking over to Mac, "I'm fine".

Horatio pulled off his jacket and threw it on a bedpost, unfastening his watch as he looked Mac over. He had gone too far to turn back; he had gone too far to even want to turn back. Absolutely convinced that nothing could make him regret what could happen between him and Mac that night, Horatio dropped his watch onto the dresser and moistened his lips.

Mac stepped out of his shoes and took off his watch, slipping it into his pocket as he watched Horatio. The redhead smiled warmly as he lightly pushed Mac's jacket from his broad shoulders. Blushing, Horatio leaned forward and gently brushed his lips along the detective's squared jaw line.

Letting Horatio take the lead, Mac was coaxed to sit on the edge of the bed with the smaller man straddling his hips. Their lips and mouths became reacquainted with each other, the room dimming as twilight overtook the city.

***

Neither of them were sure as to how long they were making out, but when they stopped to catch their breath it was dark outside and they were tangled on the bed; yet they were still fully clothed. Horatio sat up, his hair mussed from being played with and rubbing against the blankets and pillows. He leaned over and turned on the light on the nightstand, Mac propping himself up on his arm. Their hearts were pounding, their lips were swollen, and their pants were tight from what they were doing to each other.

"You ready for more?" Mac asked, slightly breathless.

Horatio nodded and the two of them began slowly removing each other's shirts. Horatio looked over Mac's shoulder, a large scar running across it.

"That looks painful," he whispered, running his fingertips over the discoloration.

"Beirut, 1983," Mac said simply, leaving it at that.

The redhead nodded in understanding, leaning forward and kissing it. As he did, Mac pulled off Horatio's shirt and got a glimpse of the lieutenant's back. It was covered in little scars going every which way, most of them were on his mid back.

"Holy hell," Mac couldn't help but to gasp as he saw them.

Horatio quickly drew back, he had forgotten about his scars. Most people he had been with have had the same reaction; probably because most cops just have bullet or knife wounds. Mac quickly bit his lip, realizing how rude he must have come off as.

"It's alright," Horatio sighed, sensing Mac's discomfort.

Mac's lips began to form the word "_how?"_ before he decided against it and closed them. Whatever left them probably left more psychological scars than physical ones.

"My father," the redhead said to the unasked question.

Mac felt his stomach tighten slightly. He was afraid of that answer, although he somewhat expected it. He didn't want to think of someone as gentle as Horatio having to go through such trauma at such a young age.

"It was from one of the few times he left physical scars," Horatio said softly, "most of the time he just left bruises. He would usually knock me down and then kick me until he got bored. He choked me a few times…"

The redhead lightly touched his throat as he remembered looking up into his father's dull blue eyes as his air was being cut off. The feeling of petechiae forming under his eyes came back to him. He could remember the yelling, but he couldn't remember what it was about. _"You worthless piece of shit!"_ he could still hear, _"Why do you have to look like your mother? The both of you just piss me off; her with her constant nagging and you trying to protect her. You're in my house! Do you understand? You will live by MY rules"._

"Horatio," Mac cooed, cupping his face in his hand.

Horatio opened the eyes that he didn't even realize he had closed. As the memory played for him he had cowered back against the headboard and turned his face from Mac.

"I'm sorry," Horatio whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, H," Mac leaned in and gently kissed him on the cheek, "I'm sorry for bringing it up. Do you want to slow down a bit?"

"No," Horatio shook his head, trying to quickly compose himself, "I… I'm fine".

"Are you sure?"

"Please let me have you, Mac".

The New York detective nodded as he pulled off Horatio's belt and pants, listening to the redhead moan softly as he nibbled lightly on his neck. Horatio lay on the sheets with Mac hovering over him; all the pillows and blankets have been nearly pushed off the mattress. Mac had straddled the redhead's hips; he sat up on his knees and looked down at his flushed and breathless lover. With a smirk on his lips and a flick of his wrist, the detective pulled open his belt. Horatio let out a ragged breath as he watched the other man free the strap of leather from his pants and toss it across the room. Just as sensuously, Mac popped the button on his slacks and slowly drew the zipper down over the pronounced bulge in his boxers. He quickly shuffled his trousers off and lay down on top of the lieutenant.

Both men moaned happily as they finally were able to feel each other's skin. Horatio flipped them over and backed Mac up against the headboard. He sat with Mac's legs between his as he leaned forward, took Mac's face in his hands, and slipped his tongue into the detective's mouth. Soon, Horatio braced himself against the wall as the brunette was running his large hands up and down the lieutenant's scarred back.

"Mac," Horatio whispered.

The detective wasn't listening; he pulled Horatio down into another kiss. He arched his back, trying to make as much contact between his and Horatio's chests as possible.

"Mac," The redheaded lieutenant whispered again, breaking the kiss and pulling away before Mac could capture his mouth again.

"Hmm?"

"I'm ready now".

Mac's grey eyes widened as he looked deep into Horatio's baby blues. The redhead's face was flushed, obviously shy as he was (in this respect), a virgin.

Mac gently pushed Horatio off his legs, climbing off the bed and kissing him gently.

"Lie down on your back and get comfortable," he crooned, "I just have to get a few things for us".

Horatio nodded, lying down on the warm sheets. He pulled a large and thick pillow under his head and relaxed as much as a man as anticipatory and anxious as him could get.

Mac was in his suitcase, digging around for lube and condoms. When he packed, he didn't plan on hooking up with just anyone. Although the clubs in Miami were plentiful, and he could probably find someone who peaked his interest; that wasn't why he packed such supplies. He once thought that just packing them was as close to a physical relationship with Horatio as he could get. He would never let the lieutenant know, but these things were packed for him.

Supplies in hand, Mac dropped them on the bed next to Horatio. He then leaned over and picked up a pillow that had fallen to the floor during their make out session. The pillow was shoved under Horatio's hips after Mac had pulled off that final article of clothing.

His breath caught as he was finally able to take in the view. Horatio's lean and pale figure lying out before him. His lean body was beautifully sculpted and his skin was like porcelain. His cock stood erect for Mac, a respectable size. The detective ran his fingers through the dark red curls Horatio's member uses as a bed, smirking as he felt the lieutenant tremble at his touch.

"Please don't stare," Horatio quietly urged.

Mac reluctantly tore his eyes away, slipping off his own boxers and throwing them across the room next to his belt. He looked up lustfully into Horatio's sparkling blue eyes; stroking his stiff cock and making the redhead squirm slightly.

"You're so gorgeous," Mac cooed, continuing to fondle the lieutenant as he opened up the bottle of lube.

Horatio trembled as he watched Mac warm up the slick substance between his hands. He bit his lip as he felt Mac run a fingertip over his entrance.

"Mac?" Horatio's voice shook in uncertainty and urgency.

"Yes?" Mac stopped.

"Can… can…" Horatio blushed slightly in embarrassment, turning his face away, "can we turn the light off?"

Mac smiled lovingly down at his partner, "anything to make you comfortable".

"Thank you".

Mac leaned over and turned off the light. The bedroom was bathed in the soft blue light of the full moon. Horatio's pale skin looked absolutely ethereal in the new lighting, making Mac want him all the more.

Mac went back to stroking and lightly teasing Horatio, listening to the soft moans he pulled from the redhead. After a few moments, the detective finally slid a lubricated finger into the lieutenant. Horatio clamped down on him, grunting in a soft protest.

"Shh," Mac whispered comfortingly, leaning forward and stroking his chest, "You're okay. Just remember to breathe".

He saw Horatio faintly nod and felt him relax. As Mac slipped his finger deep into the redhead's core, he couldn't help but to watch Horatio's face. His eyebrows were arched and his bright blue eyes had rolled back and closed. His jaw went a little slack, a soft groan coming from his throat. Throwing his head back into the pillow, he groaned a little louder and reached out for Mac.

The detective leaned down, getting close enough to stretch Horatio and have his hair stroked at the same time. He took his time pumping him before he slid in a second digit. The redhead bit his lip in attempt to suppress a moan, wanting to control himself for Mac.

With a trembling free hand, Horatio began slowly pumping his hard and leaking cock. Impulsively, Mac batted it away, only to quickly regret it. Apologizing, he took Horatio by the back of the hand and guided his palm up and down his shaft.

"I'm sorry," Mac whispered, "For a moment I had forgotten that you never did this before".

"It's okay," the redhead grunted as he felt a third finger slide in and begin stretching.

"No, do whatever you need to be comfortable. This usually doesn't take so long... I just don't want to hurt you".

"I'd forgive you if you di- oh God!"

Horatio's body tensed up as Mac turned his wrist and hit the sweet spot. His nails dug into Detective Taylor's shoulder as his other hand let go of himself to grasp onto the sheets. He wanted to beg for more, but breaths were hardly able to come to him.

The brunette heard a pathetic whimper come from the lieutenant as he removed his fingers.

"Don't worry," Mac smirked as he tore open the condom wrapper, "I'll fill you soon enough".

Horatio didn't have the strength to lift his head and watch Mac slide the Latex sheath over his manhood. He didn't really want to see it. He felt how impressive it was, and the last thing he wanted was to have second thoughts and turn back now.

"Are you sure you want this, Horatio?" Mac cooed as he applied a liberal coat of lube to his phallus, "Because all you have to do is give me the word and I'll stop".

"Don't stop," he gasped, relaxing his warm body into the bed as he mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen, "please don't stop".

"Just remember to breathe".

He tried to remember. He honestly did. But as soon as he felt that tip brush against his opening, he completely forgot how to. After a long moment, he was able to let out a ragged breath and take in a quick gasp of air.

"Calm down, Horatio," he heard as Mac pushed deep into him, "You're okay".

Horatio's eyes fluttered open when he felt Mac's rough hand brush against the side of his face. He could hardly form intelligent thought as he gazed up at the detective. In as many times as he imagined what it would be like to be with another man, he had never pictured it to be so… passionate. To be filled and loved at the same time was overwhelming; but yet he felt safe. And even though his entire body tingled with the blush that consumed it, he felt a strange peace in his heart.

Feeling the redhead calm down, Mac's hand slipped down to Horatio's soft and pale shoulder. With the other, he braced himself above his new lover, breathing steadily as he slowly pulled out just a little before he pushed back in.

Horatio moaned softly as Mac took him. Each stroke was more and more intense than the one before, but still progress was painfully gradual. He pushed against Mac and started meeting him thrust for thrust. Getting the hint, the brunette pulled nearly all the way out and slammed in.

"Oh God!" Horatio screamed, never knowing before that he could be so pleasured.

"That didn't hurt, did it?" Mac crooned, his gravelly voice echoing in the redhead's mind.

"No, not at… fuck… do that again".

The brunette smirked as he again thrust hard into the Miami lieutenant, watching him squirm in want; his body didn't know how to react to what Mac was doing to it. He pressed his lips against the strong but pale chest, red curls tickling his nose as he did so. His eyes closed as he listened to Horatio's moans grow louder and louder.

Sitting up, Mac got a full view of what be before had only sensed. Horatio Caine… beaded with sweat, lying on his back, and moaning in want. Hands wandered down Horatio's taught stomach, onto his hips, and over his smooth thighs. The soft moonlight did nothing but enhance the image of the man below him, glistening with perspiration.

He saw Horatio's hands twitch and uncertainly slide across the sheets in random patterns. He wanted to touch himself, but didn't know if he should or not. To answer the unasked question, Mac grasped onto the other man's straining cock. The redhead moaned loudly as a coarse hand slowly and steadily pumped him, bringing him straight to the extreme verge.

Although Mac was still thrusting wildly into Horatio, although his heart was pounding, and although the moans rumbled low in his chest; Horatio could only feel one thing. Mac's thumb had wandered up his length and gently, oh so gently, painfully gently, toyed with his slit.

It was too much, and with a blinding flash of white hot ecstasy Horatio came all over his stomach and the other man's hand. His back arched and he threw back his head, Mac's name passing his lips in a shaky gasp.

Groaning the lieutenant's name, Mac thrust into Horatio's tight and clenching heat. His seed spilled into the condom as he was milked for everything he was worth.

Mac opened his eyes; he had grayed out for a moment, braced over the younger man. His eyes scanned over Horatio; he was unconscious, his chest slowly rising and falling with a sleeping man's breaths. Slowly, the brunette pulled out of the redhead, placing a little kiss on his chest as he did so. Horatio grunted in his sleep as Mac pulled out, but that was all.

Stumbling around in the dark, Mac found the master bathroom. He grabbed some towels and cleaned up, tossing them into the hamper once he was done. Then, exhausted, he joined the redhead in bed; spooning him as he too passed out.


	3. Morning

**Chapter Three: Morning**

Mac's steel grey eyes slowly blinked open. He was still on his side, staring out into the sheer white curtains. They were fretted with golden light, which was what woke him.

It took Mac a few seconds to remember why he wasn't enveloped in that familiar grey and blue of New York.

_Horatio_.

With that name, all the memories came rushing back to him. They made his head swim and warmed his blood. He had finally received what he knew he had wanted from the moment he first laid eyes on that gorgeous redhead. He had done something to him that nobody got the chance to do before. It felt amazing. And judging by how passionately Horatio moaned last night, he agreed.

But where was he? Mac had woken up alone in the bed. What time was it? Maybe he was called in. It had to be around seven in the morning, but Horatio said that he called today off. Perhaps he was fixing breakfast.

Mac sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching. He wished for a fleeting moment that the sheets weren't so soft. The blankets wrapped around his bare body just felt too wonderful. He rested against the headboard, wishing that he would never need to get out of Horatio's bed.

But knowing that he didn't have eternity, like he wished he did, Mac forced himself out of bed and into his pants. He would wander around the house later. But for right now he wanted to take a look at the sunrise, something he hadn't been able to see for a long time.

Mac brushed aside the sheer white curtains, learning that the porch door was already open. He stepped outside, but his view of the brilliant rising sun was distracted. There, sitting in the tiled ground in the corner of the balcony, huddled against the wall of the house was Horatio. He was wrapped in a plush white robe. His sky blue eyes were puffy, his face a little flushed… he had been crying.

Horatio gave Mac a slight glance before he turned his face away. As he shifted, the brunette noticed that he was clutching something close to his chest. He looked closely and recognized it right away. It was the picture he had turned away earlier. The picture of his late wife.

***

**Horatio's Morning:**

_It was a few moments before daybreak. The sky was already turning blue, ready to welcome the dawn. There was a soft breeze that made the palm trees sing. The ocean waves rolled up onto the shore, occasionally washing up seaweed or uncovering shells. _

_Horatio was standing out on the balcony, letting the wind tussle his hair and pull lightly at his clothes. He sighed. The ocean seemed to stretch on for infinity. But for some reason he felt a comfort that somewhere in that eternal blueness, there was a place… somewhere he would feel complete and where nothing could ever hurt him or anyone he loved._

_Another sigh was pulled from him as he leaned on the balcony ledge. His eyes wandered down to the beach, and what he saw made his heart forget how to beat for a moment._

_There, standing on the shore and looking out to the ocean, was a woman. She was short, but lean, and clad in a white dress that billowed in the wind. She had wavy raven hair that hung down just past her shoulders. In her hands was a white sun hat, which she toyed with, not sure what to do with it._

_Horatio could hardly breathe as he whispered the name, "Marisol"._

_The next thing he knew, he was running through the house and down the stairs, murmuring her name the entire way. It was like if he stopped saying it, she would vanish._

_But there she was, plain as day. It was almost as if it didn't matter if he called her name or not, she was there. Slowly, he approached her, afraid that she would turn into the sand at her feet if he dare move too quickly._

_Finally, he was only a few steps away. He had to know if she was real._

"_Marisol?" he cooed gently, praying with all his heart that it was her._

_She jumped a little, obviously thinking she was alone. Horatio bit his lip, preparing himself to apologize… but then she turned around._

_It was her… it was really her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, from her dark but shining eyes to her sweet and full smile. It was really her._

"_Horatio," she laughed, looking over him, "You're up early. What's the occasion?"_

"_I…I…" he couldn't believe it was really her, "I wanted to watch the sun rise with you"._

"_You're always so sweet," she grinned, reaching out and pulling him up next to her._

_He didn't dare point out that she had passed away over three years ago. He didn't want to say anything that could possibly take her away from him._

"_Eric will be over later to drop off Speed's birthday present," she said, "I said we could keep it safe until the party this weekend… I hope you don't mind"._

"_Speed?" Horatio echoed. Speed was alive?_

"_Silly," she scolded, lightly swatting him with her sun hat, "It's Speed's 38__th__ birthday on Saturday. Don't tell me you forgot"._

"_I… I didn't forget"._

"_Good; because he said that if you don't get him a present, he'll never let you live it down"._

_He bit down on his tongue to keep the tears that welled up from falling. Marisol and Speed were both alive? Did he die last night? Is this what heaven is like? Even if he was dead, he wouldn't wish things to be any different. He was happy now._

"_Ray called," she continued, "he said that if my parents got us for Thanksgiving, then he should get us for Christmas. Apparently Ray Jr. just doesn't enjoy the holidays if you aren't there"._

"_Ray…" he said softly. He got to see his little brother again? The first thing he'll do will be to give him a bear hug like he used to when they were kids, then tell him not to scare him anymore… then tell him that he loves him._

"_Oh," she jumped, obviously a little too excited for this early in the morning, "he also told me that your mother is coming down from New York and is bringing her boyfriend. He thinks that this guy could really be the one. Sensitive and artistic… just the type of man she needs"._

"_Mom…"_

_Horatio's breaths shook. He lost the battle as a tear slid down his cheek. A smile spread across his lips as another fell. He needed to laugh, but could only gasp for breath as the tears stole whatever voice he could muster up._

"_Horatio?" she cooed, looking over at him, "You're crying"._

_He nodded, but still couldn't speak. He tried to wipe the tears away, but ended up only clearing the path for more to come. Soon he wasn't able to stand, and he fell limply onto the soft ground._

"_Are you okay?" she asked, worry in her tone as she knelt down next to him, "What's wrong?"_

"_Nothing," he was finally able to say with a smile._

_With that he tackled her onto the sand, listening to her laugh. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck, unable to see the tears of joy that steamed down the side of his face._

"_Nothing will ever be wrong ever again," he gasped, hardly able to breathe he was so overwhelmed._

"_Horatio," she giggled, "I can't breathe, you're holding me too tight"._

"_I'm sorry," he murmured, letting go and sitting her up._

_She watched as the tears died down and her husband was able to breathe properly again._

"_You sure you're okay?" she asked, raising an eyebrow._

"_I'm sure," he sighed, "I'm sure… now… let's watch that sunrise"._

_She smiled as he draped an arm over her shoulders, her own slinking around his waist and pulling him close. Sure enough and right on cue, the sun began to rise over the ocean. The light caught a wave and shone into Horatio's baby blues, making him squint. Marisol chuckled, handing him his sunglasses._

"_Thank you," he smiled, putting them on._

"_Where would you be without them?" she grinned after rolling her eyes._

"_Where would I be without you?"_

_The sensation of a sweet and innocent kiss being placed on his cheek was the last thing that Horatio could remember._

Soft blue eyes fluttering open, Horatio looked around his bedroom. It was still dark outside, the morning blueness only just evident in the piece of sky he could see from the bed. He stirred, suddenly becoming aware of a weight that was resting on his side. It was an arm.

As he reached down to feel the hand that held him, Horatio's mind fought a subconscious battle. Part of him was struggling to keep the dream as a memory; another part of him was trying to remember what happened the night before. He felt the hand; it obviously belonged to a man, making everything come back to him.

_It was a dream_.

Careful not to disturb his sleeping partner, Horatio sat up and looked down at Mac. His body quickly punished him for sitting, and with a soft groan of discomfort, he positioned himself to a less painful configuration.

_Where's Marisol?_

It was a question that broke his heart every time it crossed his mind; but that didn't mean he would stop trying to answer it. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his robe. As he had done for numerous mornings and countless sleepless nights, Horatio left the bedroom and went on to search every room in the house for her.

He knew that he would never find her. But maybe, if for some reason he could one day, he just needed to check.

***

He returned to the bedroom about fifteen minutes later. His heart was aching from his fruitless search.

His eyes scanned over Mac's body… the body of the man he let take him last night. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

He didn't want to think of being in a relationship with anyone but Marisol. And even with her, he just wished he could hold her again. Sex wasn't nearly as important as the comfort he needed to feel.

He crossed he room, picking up their wedding photo as he did. He never should have put it down… he never should have begun to think that anyone could fill the void he felt in his soul.

He opened the door to the balcony, stepping out and checking the beach one last time.

Feeling lost and helpless, he carried the photograph close to his chest. He sat down in the corner, looking out at the ocean and resting his back against the house. His eyes filled with tears as he gently pressed his lips against the top of the little silver frame.

***

Mac looked down at Horatio in silence. He noticed that the phrase "HC + MD" was spelled out in pebbles on the tiled ground.

Kneeling down by Horatio's side, Mac gently rubbed the younger man's back. Horatio turned his face away as more tears fell.

"Do you want me to leave?" Mac asked softly.

Horatio nodded. He didn't want to be rude, but all he really wanted at that moment was to be alone. And although those words remained unsaid, Mac seemed to know. He remembered how long it took him to move on from his wife's passing… how the beach ball with her breath in it still sat in the closet. That was eight years ago. It was too soon for Horatio.

"Then I'll go," he whispered, stroking the other man's hair for possibly the last time.

Mac gave him a long and sad look before returning to the bedroom to pack up his things. He pulled a shirt out of his suitcase, deciding to continue his search for the hotel and see out his stay… even if he couldn't be with Horatio.

Picking up the lube, he looked at it with an air of regret and guilt. It felt wonderful when it happened, but he didn't expect it to hurt Horatio so much the next morning. Wanting to move on, but still feeling a little hurt, he tossed it back into the suitcase.

"I'm sorry, Mac," Horatio said softly, placing the photograph back onto the dresser, "I don't know what's come over me".

"It's alright," he sighed, collecting his discarded clothes from last night and tossing them into his luggage, "I didn't mean to push you".

"You didn't".

There was a pause between them, Mac had stopped packing as they just stood there looking into each other's eyes.

"You don't have to go," Horatio finally said, "in fact I'd like it if you could stay for a few days. I… I just need a few more hours of sleep. I should be okay after that".

"Are you sure?"

The redhead nodded, "go downstairs, eat whatever you want, watch some TV, take a shower. It doesn't matter much to me. I… I'm just a little overtired right now".

Mac walked up to Horatio and pulled him into an embrace. The two stayed like that for a long moment, Horatio burying his face into Mac's shoulder. The brunette gently took the lieutenant by the chin, leaning in and gently giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Horatio was taken by the hand and gently led to his own bed. Soon blankets surrounded him and Mac was drawing the heavier curtains that lay under the sheer white ones. Squirming out of his robe and once again feeling his bare skin rub against the cool and soft sheets, Horatio finally felt a serene expression drift across his face. Mac couldn't help but to smile himself as he finished tucking the younger man into bed.

The room now dark, Horatio turned onto his side, curling up into a ball and getting comfortable. Mac tussled his copper hair a little bit before deciding to leave him to sleep while he went to make himself some breakfast.

"Get some sleep, Horatio," Mac whispered over his shoulder before he closed the bedroom door, "sweet dreams".


End file.
